


Grass

by eremoose



Category: London Spy
Genre: Claire London Spy, Complete, Cute Ending, Flower Language, Happy Ending, One-Shot, Scottie London Spy, University, University AU, University Setting, a little bit sad, danny isn't in this sorry, grass, idk really, twenty-something Scottie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eremoose/pseuds/eremoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scottie and his partner have been out of contact for a few months and rather than do anything about it scottie decides to mope about and is greeted by a lovely pile of grass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grass

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post saying how in flower language grass is supposed to mean homosexuality and it made me laugh so I felt like I needed to write something based on it and since I haven't read anything with Scottie as the focus I thought I might as well write him instead! The link to the original post will be above the end notes

He hadn’t seen him for months. During the summer holiday Scottie had been given too much work to get on with and really, other than by letter, the geographical distance between the two was far too substantial for them to communicate regularly. So they hadn’t. At all.  
The first term of their second year arrived and the grey-eyed man spared no time at all trying to track his lover down. He missed lectures regularly but never failed to hand coursework in. For the pair of them.  
A letter arrived one day at his door.A single blade of grass inside a small slip of paper onto which the words “I haven’t forgotten” were messily scrawled.  
A day passed and then another and then a week and then a few more and then a month and- Scottie was not one to get worried, but on this occasion he found himself breaking tradition. As it grew dark, cold, and a little ominous he felt the need to hide. Somewhere safe. Knowing no fear like it he decided it best to retreat to Claire’s flat on one of Cambridge’s prettiest campuses.

A warm glow met his face and the silhouette of his best friend welcomed him in. As he stepped through the door the various vanilla, pumpkin, and berry aromas around him blanketed him quite comfortably as protection from the bitter, lifeless autumnal air and he sat down in his familiar spot. He stared for a while at the walls of the minuscule flat when Claire went into the kitchen. Pictures of bikes, bikers and quaint cafés littered them, and behind those were pages ripped from books, words circled with thick pens and joined by string and pins to other pages on the opposite corners of the wall. On one side a mirror hung, decorated with pictures of muddy concert-goers and very well-cared for tickets.  
“How long?” Asked Claire as she entered the room, genuine concern in her voice. She sat a steaming cup of tea down in front of Scottie, despite knowing he wouldn’t want it.  
He appreciated the gesture, however, and to his best friend’s surprise he put the ornate, floral cup to his lips and sipped. “Only the 3.” he muttered into the drink, the steam fogging up his thick-rimmed glasses.  
“Days? Months? Years?” Claire asked, rather concerned.  
Scottie sighed and put the cup down. “Months.”  
“Months?”  
“He was indisposed in Scotland, I didn’t want to say anything.” Scottie stated, pompously.  
The uptight nature her not-posh and otherwise laid-back best friend had adopted did nothing to please Claire. “You were offended he hadn’t taken any time out for you?”  
“Well, it wouldn’t have hurt, would it?” Picking up a blanket rather softly from beside the chair, Scottie unfolded it and tucked it around himself. “He didn’t need to leave me, did he?”  
“He hasn’t left you! Oh you do annoy me sometimes. He hasn’t left you, dear, he must be away.” Claire tried to make sense of the situation despite knowing less of it than Scottie. She knew how fragile he could become when he felt forgotten.  
“He does still love you,” _probably_  “and I’m sure he wouldn’t just up sticks and leave.” Claire reassured him.  
“Mmmh.” Scottie retorted indignantly, turning over in the chair creating a human-blanket burrito. He enveloped himself in a shroud of grey fog. _Oh Ben, why would you do this? You can’t leave me again._

Scottie didn’t feel like going to Uni the next day.  
"Oh you mopey little so-and-so.” Claire moaned at the ball of tatty blanket on her sofa. “You need to grow up one day soon or you’ll never get anything done!” She tried to heave him off the bed but to no avail. “You’re not doing anyone any good feeling sorry for yourself.” After a few more less-than-encouraging words, she gave up. “I’ll check on you later.”  
Scottie decided that for what it was worth he would sleep the day off, maybe he’d feel better when the nightlife of posh-tosh Cambridge was underway.

At 3pm a rap on the great wooden front door jolted the sleepy Scottie from his nap. He yelled for the person to leave but they only knocked again. He yelled that he wasn’t kidding and if they didn’t leave he’d make such a fuss campus police would come and arrest whoever they were. They knocked again.  
Scottie rose from the couch, wearily balancing himself on the table. He stumbled his way to the front door and rather aggressively opened it whereupon his eyes met a great mound of grass.  
“Oh you damned sinner!“ Scottie was both horrified and overjoyed at the sight.  
A Scottish accent peeped through first. “Hello you ungrateful homosexual, I thought I'd find you here!” Ben leaped from beneath the pile of thick green stems straight for his already shocked boyfriend.  
“I’ve missed you.” Scottie was sincere and tentatively wrapped his hands around the smaller man’s waist and stared into his oak-brown eyes.  
“You have?” An element of genuine surprise in his voice.  
“Yes, you know Claire’s not in.” Scottie dragged the odd man into the flat and forced him onto the couch.  
“Will we make up for lost time?” Ben smiled, a handsome glint in his eye which he knew would only further enthral his long-missed lover.

\---------

[grass post](http://lokiloo.tumblr.com/post/78922231498/i-was-looking-through-flower-language-meanings-and)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I picked Ben's name because of Ben Whishaw, yes I am unoriginal and I hope you enjoyed this all the same! I wasn't sure who I was envisaging though when I saw the partner's appearance in my head, he looked like James McAvoy but with black hair and brown eyes rather than brown hair and blue eyes.


End file.
